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She smiled at me the way she did when I was an adventurous little boy, so eager for her attention. “Even after all the trouble the Black Jacks have caused for us?”
“Yep, even after all that. I get to do a good deed while taking away something, or someone, they value.” I didn’t want to think of Savannah in those terms. It just didn’t seem right, but that was how the Black Jacks and the Ashbys would see it.
“Then I support you. If she needs anything, you just let me know.”
A bitter laugh escaped at Ma’s hopeful words.
“Like she’ll tell me if she needs anything. I do know she needs some clothes. Found her with the rags she was wearing. Not even a decent pair of shoes.”
“Give her time, Charlie. She’s been through a lot and no matter who she is, nobody deserves that.”
“Nobody deserves what?” Savannah asked, appearing silently in the doorway. Her blue gaze bounced between us, full of suspicion.
“Charlie’s cooking,” Ma said without skipping a beat. “It’s terrible for the most part, edible but tasteless.” She frowned and shook her head. “If there’s some dish you want, I love to cook.”
Some color had come back into Savannah’s cheeks, but she slipped into her chair as if she was afraid she might fall. “Thanks, uh, ma’am, but I won’t be here long enough for that.”
I growled and turned to Savannah. I’m sure my anger came through my gaze. I was furious as I stood and got in her face. She didn’t even flinch.
“I told you that’s not a good idea. The Jacks will find you, and you’ll be back to where you were a week ago. Is that where you want to be? Only this time, it’ll be worse because you ran away.”
She glared at me, her blue eyes full of hate. “What. Ever.” Without another word, she turned and pulled herself out of the chair, sending it careening against the table, and stomped down the hall, slamming the guest room door so loud it shook the windows.
“See what I mean? She hates me.”
Ma laughed. “She’s angry. And hurt. Give her time. I’ll bring some clothes by later.”
Time was the one thing I could give her, because if I let her go, the Jacks would pimp her out again. She might even be dead before the week was over.
Chapter Sixteen
Savannah
Oh fun, I’m alive to see another shitty day. Yay me.
I’d had an easier time on withdrawal for the past few days. I woke up feeling less shitty than yesterday, so that was a good thing, right?
My mind was clearer, my ribs were healing, and I was hungry.
I thought about Charlie’s mom. I could tell she was one of the good ones. She had a warm and sunny disposition and kind green eyes, not to mention a soft touch that made it easy to trust her immediately, even though it went against my every instinct. She was the wife of an outlaw.
But, shock of all shocks, she hadn’t suggested that Charlie drop me off on the side of the road and forget about me.
She just supported him—and me. Her kindness touched me unexpectedly since it had been so long since I’d felt the love and support of a mother.
“I must be crazy if I’m thinking about mothers.” I hadn’t thought of my own mother in years, beyond her birthday and Mother’s Day each year, but Jana had brought those memories to the surface. I missed my mom. She would have never let this happen to me. Mom got cancer when I was a baby. Although she fought it for years, it finally took her from us when I was about ten.
Most of my memories of her were sitting in the waiting room at the doctor’s office or visiting her in the hospital. She’d always had a smile on her face, even when the pain was too much to bear. My father always stuck by her side. He was a great dad.
Well, until Mom died.
I sighed, wiping my eyes. Those memories were too painful to think about right now, so I shoved them down deep, like I always did. I had to get back to the especially important business of staring at the ceiling fan going round and round.
What else could I do? It wasn’t like I had any place to go, or anyone to see, which was why my gaze bounced from the fan to the slice of grass visible from the guest room window. I had no family, no friends, no home and no fucking place to go. That was the sad but true state of my life. To top it all off, Charlie had locked the door—for my protection—so the only thing I could do was think and stare and plan.
Why hadn’t I run out the front door instead of coming back in here? I can only blame myself for choosing this prison.
